


It's Hammer Time!

by greenfairy13



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon? What Canon?, Crack, Donna gets herself a hot blonde beef-cake of a man, F/M, I'm truly sorry for this fic, OT3, Reunion, Rose plays Golf with Thor's Hammer and a Dalek, Tencest, We gonna hammer them Daleks!, also if inspiration strikes me I do like the Loki duplicates, did I mention this whole thing isn't to be taken serious?, smutty reasons, sweet sweet handcuffs, the Doctor gets laid (or does the laying), the metacrisis will show up for reasons, there will be smut in a prison cell, this taser could be (and is) a bit more sonic, we all know lefty deserves better, worst present ever, you gotta love tencest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-02-21 01:46:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenfairy13/pseuds/greenfairy13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Donna land in New Mexico. Thor has been abandoned to Earth, Loki wants to conquer the world, Daleks are invading and nobody is able to pull free the hammer...well, except for one person...<br/>Crack!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue (aka taking the Doctor and Donna to New Mexico)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leftennant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/gifts).



> I'm sorry Left! We both know, you deserve better, but I'll do my best to write you some decent smut at least. Promise!

Donna rolls her eyes in exasperation. Her chauffeur through time and space is moping again. The skinny Time Lord's hair is hanging down, partially covering his face, making him look like some Emo-kid.

 

And as if that wouldn't be proof enough for his bad mood, he's listening again to Snow Patrol and Coldplay. “The Scientist” and “Run” are playing on an endless loop – _again_. 

 

“Martian!” she hollers. “Turn off those tearjerkers! I can't guarantee for anything if I have to listen to “Run” again!”

 

The alien in question jumps up from under the console like an electrified mole. Donna's heart aches for him: the Doctor's eyes are puffy and rimmed a deep shade of red, his suit is more rumpled than usually.

 

“Something cheerful then,” he says half-heartedly,snapping his fingers. The TARDIS' response is Britney Spears - and the Doctor looks close to bursting out in tears.

 

Donna throws up her arms in annoyance and disbelief. “Britney Spears makes _everyone_ cry but why are _you_ losing it now?”

 

“I'm _not_ losing it,” he argues. But there's no conviction behind his words, and he immediately knows she can tell.

 

“Ro-Rose,” he chokes out. “I listened to this song with Rose.” He's averting his eyes, looking at everything but his best friend and Donna's face softens.

 

Whenever an adventure goes horribly wrong, the Doctor retreats, mopes, and mourns the loss of his girlfriend. Really, Donna feels for him, but that behaviour has got to stop.

 

“Alright Martian,” she states determinedly, “you need some holiday.”

 

Sniffing and wiping his face, he responds, “We have just been to Midnight.”

 

“Yeah, and you almost got kicked out a space-shuttle. Let's go somewhere _nothing_ happens.”

 

Tugging his ear, the Doctor approaches the randomizer. Just as he's about to push the button, Donna snatches his hand away.

 

“Oh, you're not going to let that machine decide where to! That bloody thing got you almost killed more times than I can count,” the red-head bursts out.

 

“Oi! That's my TARDIS you're insulting! She's sentient! Go apologise!”

 

Crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow in challenge, she declares, “I'll do no such thing! _I_ will pick out a nice, boring destination.”

 

“I'm still your driver.” The skinny alien is now glaring, but the stare that makes even Daleks cover for shelter, epically fails on one Donna Noble.

 

“ _I'm_ picking the next trip and you'd better land the right place,” Donna shots back.

 

“Sooo,” he drawls. “And where does madam wishes to go?”

 

“I'll use _my_ randomizer,” she declares. “We'll do this the old fashioned way. I'll get a map and some darts and then we'll let fate decide.”

 

“Oh, yeah! And that is So. Much. Better than relying on my TARDIS!”

 

“Everything is better than relying on that murderous machine!”

 

“Stop calling my TARDIS murderous!”

 

“Not after our recent adventures!”

 

The Time Lord and the human are now having a positive stand-off, but of course the Time Lord is no match for an infuriated Donna. Spinning round on her heels, she storms off to her bedroom, only to come back seconds later with darts and a map.

 

“This is _ridiculous_ ,” the Doctor huffs. Yet, he admires his best friend's determination. Therefore, he doesn't dare arguing when Donna finally declares that they will be going to New Mexico.


	2. A furious Blonde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what's happening but some ehm...timey whimey plot sneaked in there. Hope that's okay.

To say Rose Tyler is annoyed, might easily be the understatement of the century. After travelling for more than three years (to be precise: three years, 2 months, 14 days, 15 hours, 7 minutes and 23 seconds) without finding her beloved one, a girl is allowed to sulk – especially when being stuck in the middle of some bloody desert.

 

Spinning around with a huff, Rose takes in her surroundings: there's a wide, black sky, sprinkled with stars shining like diamonds above her head. It's cold, a harsh wind keeps blowing dust and sand into her eyes. As far as she can see, there are only rocks.

 

Checking her trans-dimensional GPS-tracker, she lets out a relieved sigh. She might neither be at the right place or time, but at least it's the right universe. Only seems she ended up in the middle of nowhere.

 

_Great._

 

"Closest inhabited location: Puente Antiguo," a robotic, emotionless voice coming from her tracker informs her. "Calculated distance: 17 miles.”

 

_Greater._

 

“Beware of the tornadoes,” the voice ads in a bored tone, and Rose would have rolled her eyes, if she hadn't already been running for her life. _Something_ is falling from the sky. For a second, the desert around her is illuminated by a light so bright it hurts her eyes. The heaven is ablaze and the air is burning. Cold fear races through her veins, and the petite blonde starts pumping her legs as fast as she can. She curses under her breath as she jumps over a particularly big rock, and almost crushes head-first into the sand.

 

At least the good news is, the thing coming down from the sky is definitely not a tornado – bad news is, it is heading straight towards her and looks like...

 

_Is that a flying hammer from outer-space?_

 

Before Rose even has a chance to have a better look at whatever is aiming for her, she's being smashed to the ground. Her head hits the rocky soil with a loud thump, just as the flying thing rips a hole into the desert. Rose's vision blurs and finally turns blissfully black. Her last thought before drifting off to unconsciousness belongs to the Doctor.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

She wakes hours later in a room so sterile, white and clinical, it can only belong to a governmental facility. She's lying in a hospital-bed, clad in some hideous gown, with her hands cuffed to the frame. There's no window, and the door must be hidden somewhere in the wall, for Rose can't make it out. In fact, the room is empty but for her and the bed she's occupying.

 

Rose Tyler is alone in a room with bright, white walls.

 

Closing her eyes, the blonde tries to will away the most terrifying sight in every universe. _White walls_. If they leave her here long enough, she'll start to kick, scream and shout.

 

_Get a grip girl!_

 

_Breathe._

 

Trying to regain her composure, she listens tentatively to her own ragged breath, to the beating of her single heart. Rose Tyler can face down Daleks, the Devil (who as it turned out was a Balrog), Cybermen and Slitheen. She jumped through the walls of the universes, endured the timeless howling of the dead-space. And now, she's on the right side of the universe. The Doctor is close. He isn't dead, she already rewrote the time-line in which he drowned under the Thames, and she won't be conquered by a _bloody white wall._

 

Taking stock of her inventory, she notices she is mostly unharmed. There's a dull throbbing in her temples but else, she's fine. The handcuffs are unpleasant, but nothing she isn't already painfully familiar with after her countless dimension-jumps.

 

She tames down her fear just in time. A whizzing sound (not the sound she desires to hear) fills her ears, and a hidden door slides open, revealing a man looking like a villain from a comic book. He's dressed in black from head to heal and obviously has some predilection for dramatic leather coats. His mouth is set into a thin line, and Rose thinks he probably laughed the last time in the past century. One of his eyes is hidden under an eye-patch, and the woman strapped to the bed isn't sure if it's to add to his imposing appearance or a medical necessity.

 

Testing her restraints, she rattles with her handcuffs and puts on a guarded mask. “Why am I being held captive?” she demands to know in a low voice.

 

“Precautionary measures,” he answers simply, studying her face intently.

 

“Should I be flattered or worried that anyone might think I'm dangerous,” Rose chuckles incredulously.

 

The man snaps his fingers, and the door slides closed behind him, as he approaches her cautiously. “I don't have time for games. We found you in the desert, hardly breathing. Every bone within your body was broken. I already set up a team to make up a cover story, that would explain your death. Do you know, what we found out?” he asks drily.

 

“Amuse me,” Rose challenges.

 

“Seems you're dead for 5 years now. Rose Tyler, if that's your name at all, died in the battle at Canary Wharf.”

 

“So it's 2011,” she mutters, letting her head fall back onto the pillow in exhaustion. It's the wrong time again – as usual.

 

“You have been an ally to the Doctor,” the man states.

 

Not letting her surprise about the man knowing her name and the Doctor show, she asks him, “Who are you?”

 

“Nick Fury. Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

 

Arching an eyebrow she quips, “Shall I be impressed now?”

 

“If you're smart.”

 

“And if your organisation is what I think it is, you have no right to hold me against my will,” she snaps back, slowly getting impatient.

 

“You have been assessed as a threat,” Fury answers simply. “There is a gigantic crater in my desert, a hammer came crushing down from the sky, and on top of all that, I find a supposed to be dead woman in the middle of that mess. And another strange thing happens: said woman is about to die, but instead heals within hours. You're not going anywhere soon.”

 

Swallowing heavily, Rose tries to decide what to do next. The walls between the universes are gauzy at best. Entire star-systems disappear each and every day, and if she doesn't find the Doctor soon...

 

“Call Captain Jack Harkness,” she demands suddenly. “He's able to confirm my identity.”

 

“I'm afraid that isn't possible. Harkness is gone – and so is the Doctor, miss Tyler. He has been killed not long ago.”

 

Rose tenses under her blanket as the blood drains from her face. She doesn't dare asking what happened. Biting her lip, she waits for Fury to continue.

 

“The Doctor died at Lake Silencio,” Fury carries on unsympathetically. “Which puts _me_ between any threat from outer-space and human kind. And _you_ , are not human,” he declares coolly.

 

Swallowing thickly, she takes the information in. It's not like Rose hasn't suspected something like that. After all, it had been a slowly developing time-sense that had led her to Donna Noble. If still anything was going according to her plan, the fiery red-head would never remember their encounter – hopefully.

 

A mischievous smile spreads across Rose's face as she examines Fury more thoroughly. The guy might have an impressive demeanour, but under all that gruff attire, he's only a middle-aged human male – and anything around him seems to be in flux. Not a single time-line about this man is set, everything he just told her might happen – or not. With a sense of relief, Rose notices that _this_ 2011 has just been changed dramatically by...Oh!

 

Tapping her temple Rose tells him cheekily, “Check your data again. I think you might get contradictory information about the Doctor's well-being.”

 

“Why should I do that?” Fury asks haughtily.

 

“Because  _I_ haven't been here before. This 2011 happens right now, Nick - and I don't think you'll recognise it any more once I'm done."

 

 


	3. A Stupid Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki arrives on Earth and developes the worst plan ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what happened. This thing is morphing into a story with actual plot and stuff...*sigh*

“My father definitely has a cruel sense of humour,” Loki muses walking through this boring provincial town called Puente Something.

 

That entire realm, Midgard, holds not the slightest bit of appeal to the God of Mischief. There's no magic, technology is centuries behind what he's accustomed to on Asgard, and the locals have ridiculously short life-spans.

 

His poor brother...Banned from home and left to die in this mess.

 

Shaking his head, Loki walks on. If his hot-heated brother's return wouldn't immediately cause an intergalactic war with a race of true monsters, Loki would take him back home – maybe. After all, he's now king, ruler of Asgard and follower of the almighty Allfather.

 

Still, legend has it, Midgard is protected by an ancient, nameless God – a God holding the power to manipulate time itself.

 

The trickster would very much like to meet this man. Ancient stories told him about this man's rage and his ability to burn entire worlds to ashes when someone or something sparks his wrath.

 

Indulging for a moment, Loki imagines what he'd do when being given the power to rewrite time. So far, his life had been a lie. Stolen as a baby to serve as a political pawn, always second best and a disappointment both for his father and his stepfather. The young God's hand tightens around his cane as he grits his teeth in silent anger.

 

No longer will he be second best! His reckless brother will stay exactly where he is, and with him on throne, Jotunheimen and Asgard will be united in peace. Or even better, he could destroy the world of the Frost Giants, incinerate it like the God of Time he heard about does – wouldn't that guarantee him his father's love? 

 

Loki wonders, if the legend is true. What if this Master of Time truly protects this realm? Looking around the dusty, shabby town, he doubts anyone would care about all this. But then every creature has some sentimental streaks. Shrugging, he walks on, always following Mjölnir's energy signature. He thinks about causing a bit havoc, attacking one or two of the bigger cities to check, if this legendary God shows up. Maybe he can even strip him from his powers, make that ability to control time his own? And if he doesn't exist, he can always just conquer this planet. After all, it might be of strategic value.

 

Suddenly, an ear-piercing voice echoes in his ears, causing the God to cringe.

 

“Spaceman!” a red-haired woman shouts across the street. “Get your skinny arse back in, and eat them pancakes with me. NO adventuring!”

 

The woman shouting has a voice, you couldn't even ignore in the middle of a battle field. She's currently glaring at a tall man clad in a long brown coat. He's lean, with a messy mop of brown hair on his head, and looking longingly after a column of departing black SUVs.

 

“But Donna,” he whines. “I've heard them talking about a hammer falling down from the sky!”

 

“We're having none of that!” the woman, now known as Donna, snaps back. “I chose place and time and _nothing_ will go wrong here. We'll just sit around for a couple of days, and eat that tasty maple-syrup soaked stuff. Understood?”

 

 

The man huffs and opens his mouth to argue, when the woman approaches him, takes his hand and orders him softly to be “a good little Time Lord”.

 

Her voice is too low to be heard by one of the mortals around, but Loki's head snaps up at once. Could it be that the skinny little streak is the legendary Lord of Time, protector of the realm Midgard? Deciding that his brother Thor can wait a little longer in his prison cell at S.H.I.E.L.D, Loki follows them into the coffeehouse.

 

“Donna, this is _boring,_ ” the skinny man tells his red-headed friend. “I don't see the sense in sitting around in the desert for days, and not even checking out an extra-terrestrial hammer,” he pouts while gulping down his drink impatiently.

 

“It's _exactly_ what you need right now after that disaster on Midnight,” she says, poking her forefinger into the man's chest.

 

Loki chuckles despite himself. This henpecked guy in brown pin-stripes can't be a Master of Time. It's beyond Loki how a God could possibly obey a mortal.

 

“What's so funny?” the man asks in annoyance, angling his body towards Loki.

 

“Nothing, nothing,” he reassures the couple, holding up his hands in defence. “Just overheard your bickering with your wife.”

 

“We're _not_ married,” they yell in unison, both faces showing obvious disgust at the idea.

 

“My mistake,” Loki apologises, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “Brother and sister then?”

 

Donna huffs. “What's it your business anyway?”

 

“Just curious, me.” The God shrugs.

 

The skinny man eyes Loki's cane quizzically. Tugging his ear and looking him up and down, the man asks, “Who are you?”

 

“Oh, just a transient. I'm visiting a close friend and then I'll be heading back home,” Loki replies suavely.

 

The man nods. Producing some buzzing, whizzing technical device from his pocket, he starts scanning Loki.

 

“Rude!” Donna mumbles under her breath. But the man ignores her and instead gives Loki a sharp glance.

 

“You're _very_ far from home, aren't you?”

 

Tilting his head, Loki considers his next step and settles on honesty. “Indeed. But so are you. What is this device?”

 

“A sonic-screwdriver,” he replies haughtily.

 

“Pretty,” Loki comments, touching it lightly with his cane.

 

The tension between the two man has become too thick for Donna to stand it any longer. Deciding to interrupt the stare-down contest the guys are currently having, she claps her hands and introduces herself with a bright smile, “I'm Donna, Donna Noble. And this is the Doctor.”

 

Loki's eyebrows raise to his hairline. “The Doctor?” he echoes incredulously.

 

“Yep, that's me,” the man replies with exaggerated cheerfulness.

 

“I've heard of you,” Loki says, getting up and turning towards the door. “It's an honour. I'll be on my way then.”

 

Before the odd couple is able to follow him, Loki teleports swiftly away. He needs to investigate, to check if these mortals might have some valuable information on that Doctor. It's ridiculously easy to enter the S.H.I.E.L.D facility his brother is being held captive at, and even easier to get into their computer-system. As it seems, S.H.I.E.L.D knows not much about the man, but enough to confirm Loki's suspicions. Another Midgardian institution, that seems to cooperate with S.H.I.E.L.D now and then, called Torchwood, has collected some interesting data. The Doctor obviously owns a ship called TARDIS that enables him to travel in time, and according to the given information, he died not long ago at Lake Silencio. But here the data is conflicting. In some files, the information is still available, in others, it never seems to have existed in the first place.

 

Frowning, Loki wanders through the S.H.I.E.L.D facility. The power to travel in time must have enabled the man to outwit death itself. If he could bereft him of his powers, Odin sure would treat him as equal, wouldn't he? And obviously, this man's weakness is his love for that backward realm.

 

The Trickster would very much like to avoid a direct confrontation, but maybe he can find something he can use as a pawn? Maybe that red-haired woman?

 

In that moment, Nick Fury storms out of a prison-cell, radiating anger and screaming, “If you don't cooperate, your love-struck Doctor won't ever be able to find you, miss Tyler!”

 

The God of Mischief can't even believe his luck. Destiny just offered him the perfect bargain to earn his father's love for once and for all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Daddy's Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has Rose at his mercy, but she's bloody annoying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short ,yet still caused me a lot of headache. I'm not really happy with it, but I can't rewrite it a third time :/

Rose Tyler's head hurts, her vision is blurred, and her mouth feels like stuffed with cotton-wool.

 

She tries to move, to bring her body into a more comfortable position – and fails. _Bloody hand-cuffs_. After hopping through dimension after dimension, she's used to getting cuffed, captured and interrogated. She just hopes her current “host” doesn't have a liking for torture – not that she can't endure that too, but ugh...rather not. 

 

Glancing around the room, she immediately knows she isn't in a governmental institution any longer. The walls are painted in muted cream-colours, there are well-stocked bookshelves, the floor is from oak-wood, the bed she's lying on is spacious, comfortable, luxurious even – and her hands are tied to the headboard. A wave of panic and nausea rolls over the young blonde – the implications of her new predicament are bloody awesome.

 

A tall, skinny man dressed in a posh suit enters the room. He's handsome, dashing even under different circumstances, with his piercing eyes in a colour that resembles the ocean, the long, black hair, and the well-defined cheekbones. However, Rose only feels dread at his appearance. The time line surrounding him is gigantic, he's already so old – yet still so very young. Being at his mercy is unsettling.

 

Glaring at him, Rose tries figuring out what he might possibly want from her. “Release me,” she hisses, covering her anxiety with fury.

 

The guy merely crocks an eyebrow, “I'm afraid, my lady, that I'm not inclined to fulfil your wish.”

 

Rose snorts in response. “Yeah? And that's why exactly?”

 

“You're a most valuable pawn, of course,” he replies simply.

 

“A pawn,” Rose echoes sarcastically. “I'm not some damsel in distress, and there's certainly no knight in shining armour coming for me anytime soon, offering you gold and diamonds to release me.”

 

He waves her off with his cane. The gesture adds to his haughty demeanour – and is likewise a tad bit ridiculous. “I am Loki, God of Mischief, king of Asgard, descendant of the Allfather – I need neither gold nor diamonds.”

 

“And I am Rose, a human from the Powell Estate, a welfare case and I need to wee,” she scoffs back. “Could you fuckin' untie me now?”

 

“I'll see to your physical needs in time,” Loki informs her determinedly, and Rose flaps down on the mattress with a groan. “We both know you're lying, _Dame_ Rose. Well, not so much lying as leaving out snippets and bits of the truth.”

 

“And that would be?” Rose's cheeks are flushed, she's glaring daggers at Loki, wishing she could cause him to go through various regenerations.

 

Somehow, her piercing stare seems to work on Loki, as he takes a step back. Straightening his shoulders, he carries on. “I found your record. You have been the Lord of Time's chosen one, his true love.”

 

Rattling her chains, Rose starts laughing hysterically. “Do you even know whom you're dealing with? The Time Lord won't ever bargain,” she informs him, hiding a wistful smile in the pillows.

 

“Let that be my problem,” Loki retorts arrogantly.

 

“Good luck with that,” she quips. “You're just another errant idiot trying to get to the Doctor. Do you even know what happened to all your predecessors stupid enough to spur the Doctor's wrath?”

 

For a moment, Rose thinks she might have succeeded in intimidating the Trickster, but he just laughs outright. “I don't know, if you're exceptionally stupid or brave. May I remind you, little mortal, that you are currently tied to _my_ bed? In _my_ room?” he prods.

 

Regaining her calm, Rose eyes the self-proclaimed God intently. “You already have wealth. You got power...so why put all that at risk and challenge a Time Lord?” she muses.

 

“Isn't that obvious?” Loki snarls.

 

“Of course it is,” she barks. “You want to meddle with time. But what for? What can neither power nor money give you? Oh!” Rose's eyes are wide, and she's smiling smugly.

 

“What?” the Trickster growls.

 

“Always the same,” she sing-songs and Loki raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

 

“ _Love.”_

 

“Now you're being disgusting!” the God scowls, hardly restraining his urge to stick out his tongue at her.

 

Rose isn't the slightest bit deterred. “Who is it? Did you mess up with a girl? A boy?”

 

“Silly human!”

 

“You achieved so much, right? But it isn't enough, innit? Someone is never pleased with you, isn't that right? Is it your mum? Your dad?” Rose carries on prodding her captor. Loki flinches slightly at her mentioning his father, and the young girl grins like the cat who caught the canary. “Ohhhhhhhhhh, that's too good,” she crows. “The great ruler of Asgard, a daddy's boy. What's the matter? Let me have a look at you!” The strapped down girl makes a show of looking him up and down. “Let me guess? You're all lean and wiry and daddy would have preferred some brawny bloke? I bet when you're not acting exceptionally stupid, you're all smart and sneaky, right? Would your daddy have preferred someone who's better with a sword than books?”

 

Loki's mouth is set into a tight line. Clenching his jaw and fists, he stares furiously down at the petite blonde. “Shut up,” hisses barely audible.

 

“I hit home, didn't I?” Rose is still smirking unabashedly. “Nothing to be ashamed of, mate,” she adds with a wink. “I once almost caused an apocalypse just to get my daddy back. I understand you, I really do – but the Doctor won't indulge you,” she adds gravely.

 

“We'll see,” Loki spits out, already turning on his heels. “Rot in your cell!” he shouts over his shoulder, slamming the door shut.

 

But Rose is happy, for she knows now the Trickster's weakness.

 


	5. This Taser Could Be A Bit More Sonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy, Donna, Loki and the Doctor find each other - deliberately cracky ;-)  
> Everyone's still frustratingly clothed ...but we're getting there! Soon...

Letting out a little huff, Donna rolls her eyes. Of course it's impossible with the nutter time traveller to spend some time without getting into life-, earth, universe- or all of reality-threatening trouble.

 

At some point the fiery red-head caged, and allowed the Doctor to whisk her away to where reportedly a hammer came crushing down the sky.

 

At first sight life at the side of an ancient time travelling alien might be the height of excitement – but it follows a certain routine. Donna can't even remember how many times she found herself sneaking around secret organisations harbouring sinister plans.

 

The latest of these organisations, S.H.I.E.L.D, doesn't seem to be any different. Grim-faced men and women, armed to the teeth, are monitoring every inch of the desert, and Donna silently prays the Doctor doesn't feel especially rude today – or he might very well end up with a bullet in his leg.

 

Ducking behind a rock on the dusty ground, she and the skinny alien observe the stronghold. Donna can't help pulling a face. “If you wanna lie around in the middle of a desert, why not get properly sloshed in Vegas?”

 

“It was your idea coming here, wasn't it?” the Doctor retorts, grinning manically. He's obviously in his element. “Don't you see what's going on here?” he asks with glee. “An unknown artefact falls from the heavens, humans who got no clue what they're dealing with are meddling with it...” His face turns into a stony mask. “I've seen that before Donna, it doesn't end well.”

 

“No it never does!” Donna snaps back. “Honestly spaceman, I'm scared for you. You need to step down, please.” Putting her hand on the Doctor's arm, she looks pleadingly at him. He would never admit it, but losing Jenny and then Midnight have taken their toll on him. The Doctor recently acts reckless – even for his standards and this feverish, manic light shining deep down in his eyes sets Donna on high alert.

 

“Earth is possibly in danger, Donna. Do you really want to run from that?” He's searching her face, gazing intently at her and finally, she let's out a resigned sigh.

 

“Oh fine! But afterwards you'll take care of yourself!” Donna insists, waving a finger in front of his face for emphasis.

 

“Deal!” he agrees. Taking her hand, he starts pulling her along through the darkness. After only three steps, Donna stumbles over something soft on the ground and crashes head-first into the sand.

 

“I'm armed!” the terrified voice of a young woman screeches through the night.

 

“Yeah, well I'm not,” Donna snaps back. Clumsily getting back to her feet with the Doctor's aid, she straightens out her clothes. Eyeing the girl they just found close to the S.H.I.E.L.D base, Donna asses her not being a threat. “I'm Donna, and this skinny streak is the Doctor. We're here cause we can never stay away from trouble,” she introduces them both, glaring at the Doctor, the girl, the desert – the whole planet in fact.

 

“Darcy, Darcy Lewis,” the girl replies, swallowing. “My friends are down there.” She gestures towards the stronghold, frantically waving around some technical device in her right hand.

 

“Oh, what's that?” the Doctor asks curiously. Already snatching the device from her, he examines it with his sonic screwdriver.

 

“Careful, dude!” Darcy hisses through gritted teeth. “ That's a Taser, don't hurt yourself.”

 

“A what?” Donna demands to know.

 

“Oh, a 21st century weapon. It fires two small dart-like electrodes, which stay connected to the main unit by conductors, to deliver electrical current to disrupt voluntary control of muscles. Stuns your opponent, to put it shortly," the Doctor elaborates.

 

“Wow...does your friend always sound like he swallowed Wikipedia?” Darcy queries, rolling her eyes

 

“Usually.” Donna shrugs. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Biting her lip, the young woman hesitates a moment before answering. “Them guys with the black suits captured a friend of mine – some big, brawny bloke with blonde hair and a loose screw. Erik faked him an I.D., and got him out. I'm just here as some sort of plan B.” Taking a breath she adds, “And it's a luck it worked cause Jane's got such a huge crush on him, and she was already pissed cause they stole her research in the “Einstein-Rosen-Bridge”, she would have walked in there like some fuming rhino.”

 

“Wait, wait,wait!” the Doctor interrupts her. “Einstein-Rosen-Bridge? Are you by any chance talking about doctor Foster? Jane Foster?”

 

Darcy's face lights up. “You know her?”

 

“Na, read everything about her. A brilliant scientist, fantastic woman – it's a shame she vanished without a trace in two-thousand-e...” Biting his tongue, the Doctor stops talking. “Right oh!” he announces, clapping his hands. “Let's check out that hammer, shall we?

 

“What do you mean, you read about her?” Darcy asks suspiciously. “And what do you mean she vanishes?”

 

“Oh, nothing!” The Doctor waves her off grinning manically.

 

“He means history isn't set yet, it hasn't happened yet...” Donna starts to explain, despite her best friend's warning glance.

 

“Oh God no!” Darcy screeches. “Not enough the blonde monkey claims to be the God of Thunder, Thor, and Jane experiments with portals to other dimensions, no...the only help I get in that mess are two more lunatics.”

 

“Travelling through dimensions is impossible,” the Doctor scoffs haughtily. “Not even _I_ could find a way to cross the void, and I'm brilliant.”

 

“Perfect,” Darcy sighs. “I'm stuck with a rambling encyclopedia who's totally full of himself and some ginger who's talking some new-age karma-shit.”

 

“Wait until he turns on his full charm,” Donna comments drily.

 

“Oi! I'll let you both know I'm the epitome of charm!” The Doctor huffs.

 

“Course, dude.” Darcy winks. “That's why you gotta point it out.”

 

“Hush!” Donna silences them both. “Someone's coming,” she mouths, pulling the Doctor back behind a rock and gesturing Darcy to follow them.

 

“Oh let them come,” the Doctor sighs. “Don't we always do it like that? We get captured, they take us to their leader and I let my genius shine?” he asks, busying himself with his sonic and Darcy's Taser. “Do you know how bloody ineffective this thing is, Darcy? Here! I made it more sonic for you – you can fry eggs with your taser now!” Grinning proudly, he tosses the Taser back to it's proprietor.

 

“You got more lives than a cat!” Donna grumbles. “It's not your genius but mere luck we always survive. I mean come on! There's always some coincidence saving your sorry bum – as if some vis major was protecting you!”

 

“You know I don't believe in that flimflam!” the Doctor growls in response.

 

“Doctor look!” Donna's eyes widen in surprise. “What's the creepy guy from the coffee-house doing here? See? That's the pale guy who chatted us up earlier that day!”

 

Whirling around, the Doctor and Darcy notice a very agitated Loki stomping through the night. His fists are clenched by his side and he's kicking sand like some naughty kid who didn't get his new toy – which isn't far off from the truth, considering Loki hasn't been able to pull free Mjölnir.

 

To be honest, the Trickster has had better days. Not only is his rule over Asgard endangered, as long as Mjölnir won't obey him, also the Doctor's blonde girlfriend turned out to be right pain in the arse. He considers using some magic to silence her, but then he isn't sure how a charm might affect this feeble mortal. Loki can't take a chance damaging his valuable pawn – a pawn he wants to get rid off as quickly as possible. So when he meets the Doctor of all people in the middle of the desert, one can hardly blame him for reacting a tad bit overenthusiastic....

 

Watching the Doctor's and Loki's argument in silent fascination, both Donna and Darcy shake their heads. The ginger lady silently wonders if it's her fate being surrounded by mentally unstable, anorectic aliens – even in a small-town in the middle of bloody New Mexico. Darcy on the other hand muses if every hot guy with great hair and well-defined cheekbones must coercively be a narcissist. While the sexy skinny guy in pin-stripes claims to be some king of time, the other one outright calls himself a God.

 

Donna almost pities the pale alien going by the name of Loki. This guy is not even remotely aware of the trouble he's getting himself into – but then, she muses, the one's challenging the Doctor mostly aren't.

 

“Oh, this isn't going to end well,” she sighs, exchanging looks with Darcy. Loki just declared holding Rose Tyler hostage. He demands the Doctor's ability to meddle with time in exchange for her life.

 

“Who's Rose Tyler?” Darcy wants to know.

 

“The love is his life,” Donna replies simply and the young girl nods thoughtfully. “Let me get this straight: you're Donna, the skinny guy is your best friend and you basically love trouble?” Darcy sums up their encounter, undeterred by the meanwhile furiously quarrelling men.

 

“Yep.”

 

“And this other guy coming outta nowhere kidnapped the Doctor's girlfriend?”

 

“That's what he said.” Donna shrugs.

 

“Well...” Crocking her head to the side Darcy makes up her mind. “He seems to be a more dangerous lunatic than you and this Doctor. Honestly...” She shakes her head. “Proclaiming to be a God.” The young girl snorts.

 

“Hey Loki!” Darcy yells, and the God spins around. “I've been told this thing fries eggs,” she declares, proudly holding up her freshly soniced Taser. “I'm not sure it works on you, though. I mean you got no balls...kidnapping girls and stuff...”

 

Trembling with anticipation, Darcy aims the Taser at Loki and pushes down the button – the Trickster goes down without the slightest resistance.

 


	6. That Was Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Loki have an opportunity to talk. Both Loki and the Doctor think they're in charge.

That was certainly _not_ the plan, Loki thinks. Blinking his eyes open, he lets out a wheezing groan. His splintering headache feels as if it's about to cut his head in two. He's lying flat on his back on the floor, staring up at the oddest ceiling he's ever seen – it seems he landed inside a copper-coloured mushroom.

 

“Whoa man,” a female voice warns. “Easy. That taser knocked you out real bad – don't get up.” 

 

Turning his head, the God of Mischief takes in a blurry female form. He can make out a cascade of dark hair, a pair of full lips, fair skin and a pair of huge eyes. The woman is in a haze, the world around him is spinning out of control, and the mighty Loki just wants to throw up. 

 

“Are you a Valkyrie?” he asks, when his tongue finally decides to obey him again. 

 

Putting her hands on her hips, the woman answers, “That I'm not a size zero, doesn't mean I'm a Valkyrie! Also you're not really in a position to insult people. The hot skinny Englishman is pissed beyond belief. You're lucky the red-head could calm him somewhat down.” 

 

“A Valkyrie,” Loki starts to explain, words coming slowly. “accompanies fallen warriors to Valhalla.”

 

“Valhalla? It's a bit early in our relationship to make a trip to Europe,” the woman snorts. 

 

Her ironic sound cuts through the haze of his mind, and at last he can see properly again. The floor beneath him isn't a floor, but a grating. The walls are decorated with indefinable round  _things_ in colours from rose to copper, and there's not a single window. 

 

Loki's attentions settles back on the woman. She's dressed like a Midgardian, wearing a short black coat, jeans and heavy black boots. Her beautiful, long, brown hair is partially covered with a knitted beanie – her appearance is disappointingly ordinary. Yet her face isn't. She resembles a porcelain doll with her huge, emotion-filled eyes. 

 

“Who are you?” the God demands to know. 

 

“Currently?” The corners of her mouth twitch in amusement. “Your babysitter.”

 

“My jailer then,” Loki nods. 

 

“Sort of.” The woman shrugs. “But seriously...did you really take the Englishman's girlfriend hostage?”

 

Loki winces in response – it's not like this had been his proudest moment. 

 

Eyebrows shooting up to her hairline, the brown-haired beauty comments his behaviour drily. “You're a douche. I'm Darcy by the way. Darcy Lewis.”

 

“You shouldn't share your name, mortal,” Loki admonishes her. “It bestows beings like me with power over you.”

 

“Aren't we smug?” Darcy laughs out loud. “What power are you talking about? You'll find, I'm the girl with the keys.” Grinning broadly, Darcy holds up a bunch of keys. 

 

Getting up on wobbly knees, Loki takes a step towards Darcy – only to bump into a glass wall. 

 

“Unbreakable glass,” the girl sing-songs, cocking her head. 

 

“Don't taunt me, mortal,” Loki snarls. But even to his own ears, his voice sounds rather throatily than threatening. 

 

“What's that mortal shit supposed to mean?” Darcy snaps back.

 

“I'm a God, human,” he tells her, trying to be imposing. Pain stabs through his head, and grabbing his temples, Loki sits back down. “What did you do to me?” he moans.

 

“I tasered you,” she states matter of factly. “Which would usually mean to shot 50.000 volts through your body.” Shrugging, she adds, “But the Englishman made my taser more sonic.” Darcy explains, making little air quotes around the words “more sonic”. “Means I've no idea what actually happened.”

 

Pausing, she gives him a scrutinizing look. “You don't look like the average kidnapper,”she states thoughtfully. “I've always thought a kidnapper would be filthy, with greasy hair, someone who's disgusting at first sight.”

 

“Is that so?” Loki purrs seductively, leaping at what he thinks might be his chance to get free. 

 

Darcy nods. “But then you don't look like a God either. Are you sure you're something special? I mean besides your good looks?”

 

Pursing his lips in offence, Loki opens his mouth to retort when Darcy spins around. Eyes widening, she states, “Oh, oh, here comes trouble.”

 

Just a second later, the Doctor walks around the corner. His hair is artfully tousled, he's sporting cream-coloured sneakers and despite the pleasant indoor climate, he's wearing a long, brown overcoat. 

 

The garment flares dramatically with each step the Time Lord takes, adding to his intimidating demeanour. The alien is oozing tremendous anger. With his jaw set tight and his eyes boring mercilessly into Loki, he practically radiates tension. 

 

Loki decides it's better not to tease this powerful being. Bowing his head, he greets the Time Lord respectfully. “I am Loki, son of Odin. I have gathered the impression, we might have caught each other on the wrong foot.”

 

“Right,” the Doctor agrees dispassionately. “Do you know who I am?” He demands to know, arching his left eyebrow almost imperceptibly. 

 

“You are the Lord of Time, the Bringer of Darkness and Defender of the realm called Earth.”

 

“Ohhhhh, you read Torchwood's info sheet?” He states, flashing Loki a broad grin that doesn't reach his eyes in the slightest. 

 

The God of Mischief feels a tad bit unsettled – there's a darkness behind the ageless eyes of this man he can''t place. And never before has the prince of Asgard been treated with such indifference. 

 

“I'm _not_ the Defender of this planet,” the Doctor tells Loki, face hardening. “That title belongs to someone else. Someone I deeply care for – but you already know that, don't you?”

 

“Rose Tyler,” the prince answers, and the Doctor flinches.

 

“Don't,” he hisses. “Don't _ever_ dare to speak her name again.”

 

“As you wish,” Loki replies, tilting his head mockingly. The information he has been given was more than correct. The man standing in front of him is deeply, maddeningly in love with the woman carrying that name – a woman at _his_ mercy, a woman the Doctor won't ever find, without Loki's help. Feeling the balance of power shift, his mouth curls into a confident smile. 

 

Noticing Loki's regained composure, the Doctor notes conversationally, “I'm disappointed in you, Loki. Like all my enemies before you, you think you're having an advantage. You assume, you're in control. I'm telling you something: you lost all control when thinking using  _her_ against me, was a good idea.” 

 

Taking in a sharp breath, the Doctor studies Loki's features intently. The prince's sly expression still doesn't falter. “I asked you, if you know who I am.”

 

“And who are you?” Loki bites back derisively.

 

“I'm a man who gives no second chances,” the Time Lord declares icily. “So here's my deal, Loki. I'll give you exactly _one_ opportunity to tell me where Rose is. If you have harmed her, if you have even hurt the tiniest hair on her head, may whatever superior being a God preys to, have mercy upon you, for I shall not.” 

 

Grimacing, the prince of Asgard tries to suppress a chuckle. “Am I supposed to be impressed?” he asks, failing to keep a straight face. “But I'll tell you where your sweet Rose is. Come closer Time Lord, lend me your ear,” he whispers conspiratorially, not believing how easily the Doctor walked into his trap.

 

 

 

 

 


	7. A Brilliant Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to get your girlfirend back without giving up your TARDIS. Smut in the next chapter! (For real ;-))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long. I've been sick but I'm slightly better now (let's see for how long). I don't know how I'll be in the next days and weeks so I don't promise a quick update but I never abandon stories.

The Doctor walks into the console room. Jaw tight and face set into a stony mask, he eyes the flickering lights of the time rotor.

 

“So off to get your girlfriend?” Darcy asks, excited to make a trip with the TARDIS. For a brief moment the young woman wonders why she's so comfortable with all the craziness happening around her.

 

She's currently in some sort of blue box that is just _huge_ on the inside. A super secret governmental organisation imprisoned Jane's new crush and stole her friend's research, two hot skinny men insist on being aliens... Well Darcy always knew life must have more in store than only being a scientist's assistant. 

 

“Doctor...” Donna starts, but words fail her as she takes in the desperation in the Doctor's eyes. Taking a deep breath, she starts again. “We have no proof Loki is telling the truth. He might have Rose – or this might be a trap.”

 

“I know,” the Time Lord answers curtly. “But if Rose is at his mercy...” Rubbing his face he ponders for a moment. “Donna I _need_ her back. If there's only the tiniest chance.”

 

“Hey Lord of Space,” Darcy chimes in. “What does he want you to do before you can have her back?”

 

“What they all want,” the Doctor spits out in disgust. “ _Power –_ the power to control time.”

 

“He wants the TARDIS,” Donna gasps appalled.

 

“Jup,” he answers, popping the “p”. Though his tone is cheerful, his expression isn't. In fact Darcy's heart aches for the alien in front of her. His entire demeanour oozes sadness and a loss the young girl can't even fathom.

 

“And what if we just wait?” the red-head suggests. “We keep him here, he gets bored and tells you what you want to know?”

 

“And how long?” the Time Lord arches an eyebrow. “Days? Weeks? Months?”

 

“But I thought it's a _Time Machine_!” Darcy protests. “It shouldn't matter, should it?”

 

“Darcy it doesn't work like that,” the Doctor explains solemnly. “Loki is in our time line, as Rose is in his. _Our_ present happens _now_ for us. We can't go back and change our own fates. We can go back in time, yes. But only if the past we visit or the future we visit hasn't happened for us yet. You can never change the events you're part of yourself, Darcy.”

 

Taking this information in, her eyes roam over the console. Darcy examines the various knobs and levers, all the shiny lights and monitors. Hesitantly she poses a question, “What good does your ship do him?”

 

“What!?” the Doctor squeaks, slightly insulted on behalf of his magnificent TARDIS.

 

“I mean he can't fly it, can he? If you'd hand this thing over, what could he do? He'd just push buttons and pull levers without a plan. I mean that's what I'd do...” Darcy shrugs.

 

Standing still in his tracks, the skinny alien gapes at her as he scoots his fingers through the luscious strands of his thick hair. His jaw works, opens and closes a couple of times. “You're brilliant!” he finally blurts out, a bright smile spreading over his entire face.

 

All of a sudden the Doctor looks years younger, like an excited kid on Christmas. Instantly he's moving at reckless speed, running around the console, tearing cables from under the granting. His sonic screwdriver whizzes, a hammer gets banged into a wall and sparks fly.

 

Darcy can only stare in wonder as the Doctor works with manic concentration, specs on his nose and the tip of his tongue poking out the corner of his lips. She takes a step back, fearing one of the flying tools might hit her head. Not knowing what to do, Darcy turns towards the only other human on the time ship.

 

The red-head just shakes her head sadly. “He's cuckoo,” she mouths mutely.

 

“All done!” the Doctor states proudly after a while. Looking expectantly at his companions, he wipes his hands on his trousers.

 

“Obviously,” Donna responds dryly. She eyes the chaos with unhidden mistrust.

 

“Done with what?” Darcy wants to know.

 

“With the TARDIS of course!” As both women's faces stay completely blank, the Doctor sighs and starts to explain. “I manipulated the TARDIS. If Loki wants to make a trip, he'll get stuck. Right now the TARDIS is only able to travel between Earth, current time and Asphonas Prime – like a bead on a string jangling up and down between two points!” he grins happily, completely pleased with himself.

 

“Asphonas what?” Darcy asks. “Sounds like some cleansing agent,” she mumbles.

 

“It's a desert-planet. Completely uninhabited for most of the time except for some bugs - which is quite astonishing considering the fact it has an atmosphere suitable for most life-forms. Did you know Asphonas Prime has two moons? The axis in which they circle the planet...”

 

“Doctor!” Donna interrupts him. “Get to the point!”

 

“Oh right!” he claps his hands. “Point is, he'll get stuck.”

 

“So you give up your TARDIS?” she asks incredulously.

 

“I'll pretend to.”

 

“Right. So you get Rose while he flies off with a broke TARDIS. A brilliant plan if you want to spend the rest of your life where your girlfriend is being trapped.” Donna purses her lips in disapproval.

 

“Oh you haven't seen a Vortex Manipulator yet!” Whirling around the Doctor produces some gadget that looks like an oversized wristwatch. “Takes you through space and time – but check out the side effects: nausea, dizziness, splintering headaches,” he lists gleefully.

 

“Sound like the package insert on anti-depressants,” Donna remarks sarcastically.

 

“Really?” The Doctor's eyebrows raise in curiosity. “Fascinating. 900 years old and still I don't know everything. Anyway!”

 

“And where are _we_ in this brilliant plan?” Darcy wants to know.

 

“Oooooh! Here's the good part.” Donna rolls her eyes as she turns towards Darcy. “Guess who may babysit the other lunatic alien and prevent him from taking over planet Earth until Space Cowboy is back from fooling around with his girlfriend!” Glaring at the Doctor and putting her arms onto her hips, Donna lets out a frustrated huff.

 

“Perfect! That's settled then!” the Doctor concludes enthusiastically, already on his way to Loki's cell.

 


	8. I'm Coming!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're finally making progress and heading off to Rose! Loki and Darcy are getting closer and Donna might be a match for Thor. The next chapter will contain the promised smut. (Now for real cause the Doc is finally where he needs to be!)

Loki eyes the Time Lord sceptically as he releases him from the cell. The God obviously didn't expect the Doctor to cave in so quickly.

 

“There you go!” The pinstriped alien beams excitedly. “The last TARDIS in existence and finest space- and time-ship in every universe. She's all yours!” He's holding out the keys to the TARDIS as he speaks. Before Loki can grab them, he snatches them away. “Tzk, tzk, tzk,” he tuts, holding the keys up high in the air. “First I need to know where exactly Rose is.”

 

“I'll take you there,” Loki replies, smiling slyly. “Regard it as my first flight-lesson,” he adds derisively.

 

Donna and Darcy exchange worried glances. That hadn't been part of the plan. The TARDIS can't go anywhere except for Earth and Asphonas Prime. The Doctor however is undeterred.

 

“Riiiiiight,” he agrees gleefully. “Flight lessons.” He gives a short snort. “Wouldn't have thought a high and mighty God would need flight-lessons.”

 

Loki's glares daggers at him. Narrowing his eyes dangerously, he crosses the room with three long strides and places the Doctor's hands at his temples. “Look into my mind, Time Lord,” he hisses. “A time machine wouldn't be of much benefit, if I wouldn't know how to operate it. In your position I would quit playing games. Your fair is Rose is locked up and as I expected returning to my prisoner much sooner, I haven't provided food – or water.” The God of Mischief's lips curl into a nasty snarl as his voice lowers. “I tied your pretty princess up on my bed, chained her so she wouldn't escape my mercy. You think it's all a trick – look into my head,” he commands.

 

The Doctor has visibly paled during Loki's speech. Swallowing hard he gives a short nod and closes his eyes. A moment later Loki withdraws. “Na, na, na – that's enough, Time Lord.”

 

Clenching his fists the Time Lord growls. “What have you done to her?”

 

“Nothing,” he replies innocently. “But I can't guarantee for what my servants might do with her. After all she's so pretty, isn't she?” he smiles lecherously and the Doctor is ready to murder Loki with his bare hands.

 

“You're disgusting.” Darcy wrinkles her nose at Loki. “What sort of God needs to harass women? I mean that's just low.”

 

Momentarily chastised, he stares at the floor. “I wouldn't take advantage of such a situation. As you said, it's unworthy of a God.”

 

“Implying to do such a thing isn't much better,” Darcy points out.

 

“I promise she's unharmed,” Loki assures her, shifting from left to right uncomfortably.

 

“Rose came back,” the Doctor mumbles brokenly when his anger cools slowly down and realisation hits him with the force of a freight train. Donna thinks he never looked so lost and hopeful at once as he searches her face for comfort. “Donna...”his voice cracks.

 

Stepping between the two men, the red head takes the time traveller into her arms. “Darcy and I can handle him,” she whispers into his ear. “Bring Rose home,” Donna tells him, squeezing his hands.

 

“Handle me, mortal?” Loki chuckles. “I don't need to be handled!”

 

“Well babe,” Darcy winks, “you wouldn't say that, if you'd have ever tried my hands.”

 

Loki chokes for a moment and Darcy bursts into laughter. “God or not – I'll make you behave,” she promises.

 

“Is that a challenge, Midgardian?” He arches an eyebrow at her.

 

“Nope!” she contradicts firmly. “It's a fact,” she states. Tilting her chin she dares the God to object.

 

“You'll worship me soon enough insolent little girl,” Loki responds quietly.

 

“Fat chance,” Darcy huffs. “Can we get his girlfriend now? The poor man is totally falling apart,” she notes, indicating the Doctor. “Hell I wanna be loved like that for once,” she mumbles, stalking towards the console.

 

“Does that mean you're not being wooed?” Loki asks Darcy curiously.

 

“I'm not exactly first in line,” she admits hesitantly. “And seriously? _Wooing?_ Who still woos a girl? You get sloshed and shagged - in that exact order. And you never get fuckin' called again. Well if you're me, that is.” Darcy lets out a small exasperated sigh.

 

“Which imbecile would be as lucky as to gain your grace and not hold onto it?” Loki demands to know.

 

“There was Ryan, Thomas and just recently Erik and...wait! Did you just compliment me?” The girl's long curls bounce as she spins round, her mouth forming a silent, surprised “O”.

 

“I stated a fact,” the God replies smoothly. As if nothing had happened, he focuses on the console. “Doctor, would you be so kind?”

 

“Sure,” the Doctor agrees wearily. He hasn't been paying attention to Loki or Darcy for the past minutes. His mind is occupied with pictures of his Rose back in this very universe. The Time Lord's head is spinning with thousands of questions. Would his Rose want him to finish his sentence? Does she still love him? Would she still want to travel with him? Or would she rather prefer a quiet, domestic life? The Doctor knows he can be domestic. If it means being with Rose, he'd settle down and become a teacher, or a farmer – or whatever, it's not like he cares as long as he's got her.

 

A rush of panic races through his veins. If she prefers domesticity, would she want to be domestic with _him_? And would she want to settle down on Earth or maybe on a planet like Flosden Paradise? A planet that only knows summer and contains the most beautiful beaches in the whole universe. Would she want to get married? Would she want to marry _him_? He bought a gigantic pink diamond shortly before their separation – but what if he isn't the man she wants diamonds from? She said she loves him, but that could also mean she loves him only as a friend, right?

 

“Space Man! Get your head outta the clouds. Earth to Moon, man!” Donna yells impatiently. “If you stare into the Time Rotor for much longer, Rose will sure as hell starve. Get us going – my eyes hurt from all the skinny man I have to endure.”

 

Straightening his tie and tousling his hair the Doctor huffs indignantly. “I'll let you know a lot of women consider me the epitome of manhood!”

 

“Just keep your manhood away from me,” she growls.

 

“I suggest introducing you to my brother,” Loki proposes politely. “I'm sure he'd meet your standards.”

 

“You trying to play matchmaker?!” Donna sputters and Loki shrugs.

 

“Just wondering if you could tame my brother's temper.”

 

Before she can answer, the TARDIS lurches violently forward and propels their passengers into the vortex. “Rose, I'm coming!” the Doctor announces brightly.

 

“Bit early, no?” Darcy comments dryly.

 

“Never,” the Time Lord winks. Grabbing his coat, he wants to leave the TARDIS.

 

“My flight-lessons!” Loki shouts.

 

“Just type in the year, the place and pull the lever!” the Doctor lies easily.

 

Loki frowns but does as he's told. Should the Time Lord have tricked him he'll regret it soon enough.

 

 


End file.
